


what will the book tell you this time, Memory Boy?

by LovelyScribbles



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dream Smp, Dream Team SMP Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyScribbles/pseuds/LovelyScribbles
Summary: Spoiler warning for those not caught up with the DSMP plot, particularly from Ranboo's perspective!Ranboo is given an old, beat up journal by Philza and there's no mistaking it. It's definitely one of his journals. But with no memory of ever writing it, and no idea of the contents within, he isn't sure what he can expect to read. But, maybe this new journal will give him some insight on his past, and who he used to be before arriving at the Dream SMP. Maybe it can explain why he does horrible things while he sleep walks. Just maybe... it can explain why he has a voice in his head that sounds like Dream himself.Rated for teens due to language and themes of violence that will occur later. Original characters show up as Ranboo's family, but they're based on SBI+Tubbo.
Kudos: 13





	what will the book tell you this time, Memory Boy?

**Author's Note:**

> Ultimately this fic will be complete headcanon about Ranboo's origins based on hints and things he's said in stream so far (up til Feb 1, 2021). Enjoy!

“I think this belongs to you, mate,” were the words that the kind, almost pitying face of Phil said as he handed over the journal to Ranboo. The leather cover was deeply scarred and worn severely around the spine and edges, and some of the edges of the pages were singed, as if they were once caught on the fringe of a creeper explosion. All in all, the book looked to be in horrible condition, and Ranboo was certain at the time that it wasn’t his. But he couldn’t deny his name carved into the cover.

“Where did you find this? I don’t think…. I mean- I have all my journals still. I never take them off me anymore. Ever since…” Ranboo trailed off, and sensing the tension rise in the air, Phil was quick to pick up the slack in the conversation.

“I was exploring around the edge of the SMP, and stumbled into a cave system. It looked like it was an abandoned mineshaft? I couldn’t see how far it went, the place was loaded with mobs, but one of the things I did see was this book.”

“But...But I--” Ranboo stuttered, floundering for words as he looked down at the tattered old journal in his hands. “...Thanks? I-I guess.”

“‘Course, mate.” Phil paused, looking at the confused and conflicted expression on this poor kid’s face. It almost looked like the kid was _scared_ too. His life hadn’t been easy since coming to the SMP, and who knows what it was like beforehand to make him want to settle down here. All Phil could think of was his own sons, particularly the one right now that seemed most lost in life. So to speak, anyway.

He started again, a more comforting approach, “I wouldn’t worry too much about it, alright? You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to. No matter what, you’re still welcome around here. We won’t just kick ya out into the cold over some book.”

That was two days ago. Two days of agonizing over whether to read the stupid thing or not. Ranboo sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the crown he often wore sitting beside him for now.

The snow was piling up, a gentle snowfall that hadn’t stopped for the last couple of hours that he had been sitting on the porch outside his home. Though it was far from the comforting sight that most people would see it to be. He could hear his newest Enderman roommate angrily hissing and vibrating within the house, darkly cursing the snow in their language.

Ranboo had to admit, his own skin was itching with the desire to get out from the snow, though it didn’t hurt him like the rain did. Somewhere, his enderman side was screeching out of instinct, the knowledge that if it was snowing here, it meant that it was raining somewhere else. But for now, Ranboo couldn’t be inside. It was too cramped, too stifling, it felt as if the walls would close in on him at any minute if he stayed in there.

Maybe he should just throw the old book in the fire that was keeping him warm. Maybe it was too much trouble. If he had left it behind, if he had left his entire life behind, maybe it was better if he never remembered it again. The fire was looking more and more inviting as it turned the snow that gathered around it into sludgy mush. It would all be so much easier if he just…

But even as he thought that, he knew he wouldn’t actually be able to follow through. Be it curiosity or something else tugging at his heart, he had to know just what it was that happened to him in the past. He had to know why he left. Maybe it would give him clues… as to who he was. Who he used to be. And maybe why he had this other side of himself when he went to bed sometimes. Why that other side used Dream’s voice to talk to him.

If that was at all possible, then… Then he had to know. For his own sake, and for the sake of his friends. He couldn’t keep living like this, after all.

Taking a deep breath he steadied himself, trying to calm his nerves. A deep breath in, counting to seven, and then a longer breath out like he was trying to exhale all the anxiety in his mind. When he looked back down at the journal, he let his fingers trace over the carving of his name.

With one last moment taken to steel himself, he opened to the first page of the book, and his heart skipped a beat as he looked over the first sentences there; written in a language so familiar and so foriegn at the same time. He had gotten used to using the common language of the humans on the SMP after all.

_⟒⎐⟒⍀⊬⏁⊑⟟⋏☌ ⟟⌇ ☌⍜⟟⋏☌ ⍙⍀⍜⋏☌. ⟟ ⎅⍜⋏⏁ ☍⋏⍜⍙ ⍙⊑⏃⏁ ⏁⍜ ⎅⍜._

Those first sentences hit him in a way he couldn’t prepare for, a way that he hadn’t felt since Dream himself handed him back his journal in front of all those people in the ruins of the community house. That felt like so long ago now, and yet still felt like it took place yesterday, too.

Ranboo shut his eyes-- he couldn’t let himself be overwhelmed with just the first sentences. He had to keep going.

A ghost of what he must have felt when the words were first written washed over him though he tried to calm himself down; panic, guilt, and an ominous overtone of remorse settled onto him as he repeated the words he had just read again to himself.

_Everything is going wrong. I don’t know what to do._


End file.
